Hannah Lily Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by kahlen369
Summary: If Harry been born a girl, what would change? A lot, surprisingly. Professor McGonagall picks her up instead of Hagrid and becomes a parental figure. She ends up Sorted into Slytherin, and makes friends with the "snakes". Oh, and pairings, of course.
1. Prologue

**Hannah Potter and The Philosopher's Stone**

**Prologue**

* * *

James Potter had always wanted a son. Someone to share his Quidditch obsession, someone to carry on his pranking legacy as a Marauder-someone to be a miniature James. So when the baby that his wife was carrying turned out to be a girl, he was more than a bit disappointed (something which disgruntled Lily to no end-_she_ had wanted a girl, after all).

But the moment his baby daughter was born, perhaps to no one's surprise but his, he was instantly in love with her, and all his dreams of a James Jr. were forgotten. He loved Hannah Lily Potter and was already vowing to hex any boy that came within ten feet of his baby daughter.

It was enough to make Lily roll her eyes. But she was glad. She had been a bit worried that James would let all his ridiculous fantasies of the next James stop him from fully loving Hannah. She should have known that her fears were just that-fears. Groundless ideas fueled by worry and an overactive imagination.

Hannah Potter was already quite the daddy's girl. Lily swore she had him wrapped around her tiny baby finger. He was gaga over her, spoiling her absolutely rotten. She wondered if every man was simply putty in their daughters' hands; she had been quite the daddy's girl herself.

She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she watched her husband feed their daughter. He had oatmeal on his nose and robes but didn't seem to mind. She observed them with a smile, thinking that in a way, James had gotten what he wanted in Hannah. His daughter looked just like him, right down to the messy black hair and ever present grin. The only proof that she had any contribution to Hannah's conception were her bright green eyes.

Hannah had even inherited his Quidditch talent (it certainly didn't come from her; she was rubbish on a broom), already flying like the next big Quidditch star on her toy broom. James was absolutely ecstatic and Lily could only shake her head in exasperation and mild disapproval. Her boisterous baby girl was really her father's daughter. But she couldn't really feel angry about that. Because even with all the complaints, she was happier than she had been in a long time. Since the start of the war, things had been getting worse by the day. She had begun to feel the strain of it all and was a lot less happy for it.

But when baby Hannah came along, she felt as if her heart would burst from joy. Hannah Lily Potter had brought hope to their house. Even when they were forced to go into hiding to protect their daughter's life, she still felt unreasonably happy. Though the threat of death hung over their heads, she found that as long as their daughter was safe, she could be happy.

When the time came that she was forced to meet her maker, she had little regrets. She had done all she could to save her daughter, and maybe it would be enough. Though their time together had been cut tragically short, they were still the happiest times of her life, and she could find no regret in that. She found peace at the thought of her daughter, happy and safe. She clung to that hope as the green light struck her.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had been against the idea of sending Hannah Potter to live with her Muggle relatives since the beginning, and the feeling only intensified over the years. She had had her doubts that day, but had been swayed by Albus' words easily enough. Too easily, she thought in retrospect. It had been a mistake, to send her to live with her only living blood relatives. Because though they were related by blood, they couldn't be further apart in the ways that mattered. Petunia and Vernon Dursley were the poster children for anti-muggle propaganda. They hated Magic to an unreasonable degree and mercilessly took it out on Hannah. They treated their niece horribly, feeding her the barest minimum needed for survival—she was an absolute rail!—and making her do all the chores while her oversized cousin lounged around, played games, and bullied Hannah. And all without one kind word to her! The way they spoke to her! They treated her little better than a house elf—and at least house elves _enjoyed _doing chores. It was shameful, and it made Minerva more than a bit angry.

She had told Albus on more than one occasion how they treated Hannah. But every time, he would gloss over their actions and comfort her over what she saw. As if _she _were the one needing comforting! His callous reactions had caused her to be more than a bit chilly with him as of late. And his absolute refusal to tell her anything only made it worse her. She was not an idiot. She knew that he was just as incensed at the Dursley's actions as she was (he wasn't that good of an actor either; she had known him for over twenty years after all)—but for some reason that he wouldn't tell her, he couldn't do anything about it. Which was bloody ridiculous! He was _Albus Dumbledore_! The only wizard Voldemort ever feared! Did he really expect her to believe that _he_ was afraid of a bunch of bigoted _Muggles_?

Whatever it was, it _had_ to be more important than that. Nothing less could excuse such negligence. She only wished that he would simply tell her what it was so she could stop beating him _and_ herself up over Hannah's living conditions. But Albus Dumbledore was quite the stubborn man. She knew that he would not relent once his mind was made up so she could only sigh and hope that he knew what he was doing. Which contrary to the Wizarding world was not all the time. Albus Dumbledore was only a man after all. A very powerful and brilliant man, but still a man. And men make mistakes. Minerva could only hope this wasn't one of them.

Minerva was only all too glad when the day finally came to give Hannah Potter her school letter.


	2. Letters, The Professor and Diagon Alley

**Hannah Potter**

**Chapter One:** **The**** Letters, Minerva McGonagall and Diagon Alley**

* * *

Hannah Potter was sitting on the bed of the smallest bedroom of the house on number 4 Pivet Drive. Only a few days ago, she would've given anything up to be in this room. Now, she would gladly trade it for the mysterious letter Uncle Vernon seemed hell-bent on never letting her read. It only sparked her curiosity even more, and by now she was simply dying to know what was inside it. But all her various plans to get the letter had been foiled by Uncle Vernon. When she had gone down extra early the third day to get the letter before he could, she almost tripped against his sleeping body. A lot of shouting and cursing later, she still had no letter.

The tension in the house on number 4 Pivet Drive was close to bursting. Uncle Vernon had gone increasingly mad in his attempts so stop the letters from coming. First, had nailed the mail slot shut. Then, when the letter were simply pushed under the door and slotted through the sides, he boarded up all the cracks on the front and back door.

By the time Sunday came around, everyone in the house was filled with various contrasting emotions. Uncle Vernon seemed almost calm, sure that his latest attempt has worked; Aunt Petunia seemed anxious, she just wanted everything to go back to normal; Dudley was confused, what was all the fuss about the stupid letter?; Hannah was excited, hoping this time, she would have an opportunity to get one of the letters.

Uncle Vernon practically jumped when the doorbell rang. Instead of the milkman as they expected, however, a tall, black-haired woman wearing conservative clothes and a severe expression stood at the door.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously as she observed him, "Vernon Dursley, I presume?"

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes in a similar way but didn't nearly have as much threatening effect as the stern-looking woman, "Who are you?"

She looked at him as though he had a very unpleasant odor and said in a clipped tone, "May I come in?"

"No, you may not." Uncle Vernon replied rudely.

Seemingly unsurprised at such a response, she pointedly ignored the man as she entered the house anyway.

"This is a conversation you do not want to be heard by your neighbors." She added contemptuously. Looking around the hallway, her eyes rested on Hannah. An emotion Hannah couldn't quite place was in her eyes.

"Hannah..." The woman whispered almost apologetically. How did this mysterious woman know her name? She didn't know anybody aside from the Dursleys and a few neighbors like Mrs. Figg. She was quickly reminded of the odd man who had waved to her when she was younger. But this woman was different. She seemed like she actually knew her. Maybe she had known her parents?

"Who are you and why are you in my house?" Uncle Vernon asked angrily, bringing everyone's attention back to him.

The woman slowly turned to face him, eyes never leaving Hannah, before bluntly saying, "I am here to escort Hannah Potter to Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry."

"What?" Hannah and Uncle Vernon said at the same time.

"You are not taking her to that place!" It was, to Hannah's surprise, Aunt Petunia who spoke. How did she know what a _Hogwarts_ was? Aunt Petunia hated everything that wasn't perfectly _normal_. And _Hogwarts School of **Magic and Wizardry**_ was as far from normal as you could possibly get.

"_You_ have no right to decide that!" The woman spat back venomously, and Aunt Petunia quailed under her harsh gaze. "You gave up that right the moment you first _abused _Hannah!"

Aunt Petunia seemed to cringe at the word and she sputtered, "I-I only did… w-what I had t-to do…"

"What you had to do?" she raised an eyebrow patronizingly, "I have not forgotten you, Petunia Dursley. Nor have I forgotten your sister, Lily."

Aunt Petunia looked stunned at this revelation and Hannah guessed she didn't recognize the tall woman—though the woman obviously recognized her.

"I have read the letter, and know as well as you do what it says," the woman said ominously and Aunt Petunia's face drained of color. Hannah wondered exactly what letter the woman was talking about and what on earth was going on, "Do not take out your foolish grudges on an innocent child."

This seemed to finally snap Aunt Petunia out of her trance because she said scathingly, "Innocent? No child of your-_your kind_-is innocent! You're all a bunch of _freaks_!" She screamed the word 'freaks' and Hannah had to cover her ears. "Just like my dratted sister! Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that—that _school-_and came home every vacation with pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was—a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!" She took a deep breath; it seemed she had wanted to say all this for years.

"Wait-so it's true?" Hannah suddenly cut in, and Aunt Petunia turned to stare at her, suddenly closing her mouth—as if she had just realized what she let slip out. Hannah didn't doubt there was more she wanted to say but she didn't particularly care at the moment. "Witches and wizards—are _real_?" She asked uncertainly.

It was the mysterious woman who answered, "Yes, Hannah, they are."

Hannah nodded slowly, unsure whether or not to believe this, before slowly asking, "…And I'm one too?"

"Yes," she replied before drawing something from inside her coat.

It was one of the letters.

Hannah's eyes widened as she took the letter from the woman's hands. She read quickly.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await you owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

When Hannah was done reading she looked up at the woman.

"You mean I'm going to this school—Hogwarts?"

Before the woman could reply Uncle Vernon suddenly spoke up, "She's not going!"

The woman slowly turned to face him and Hannah could see that Uncle Vernon was fighting the urge to cringe.

"I'd like to see you stop her." She said dangerously and this time Uncle Vernon did cringe.

When Uncle Vernon managed to find his voice, he said shakily, "W-we swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," his voice grew stronger as he spoke, "We swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch indeed!" He was purple in the face by the time he was done speaking.

"I will not tolerate such words, Vernon Dursley." She warned and Uncle Vernon wisely stopped talking, "Hannah Potter will be attending Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry this September." She said the words with finality, effective cutting off any objections.

"And if you dare try and stop her, I promise you, I will not be as lenient as I have been today." The woman looked absolutely serious and even Hannah felt a chill run down her spine at her promise.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed to have finally gotten the message and did not say a word of objection.

"Now," she said in a far lighter tone as she turned towards Hannah, "We have some school shopping to do." She gave a small frown.

"And perhaps some clothes shopping, as well." She added as she observed Hannah's clothes. Hannah felt her face flush as the woman turned to give the Dursley another glare.

"Hold my hand tightly, if you will."

Hannah obeyed, grabbing the woman's right hand tightly. Before she could ask where they were going, she suddenly felt a pulling sensation near her stomach, and the world before her eyes disappeared. The last thing she saw was the Dursley's huddled together in the hallway, not one of them waving goodbye.

A moment later, she was feeling distinctly lightheaded as she took in where she was. They were definitely not at Pivet Drive, anymore. She wasn't sure they were still in London, for that matter. Everywhere she looked, there was something out-of-this-world. The sun shone brightly and she could see inside the nearest shop. It was filled with what Hannah realized where cauldrons. 'Cauldrons—All Sizes-Copper, brass, Pewter, Silver-Self-Stirring—Collapsible', was what the sign over the shop said.

"This is Diagon Alley," she explained, "It is Wizarding street that is completely hidden from the Muggles—that's what we call non-magical folk. You can buy various things here-all your school supplies can also be bought here." Hannah nodded, looking around her. There were shops selling owls, shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver things Hannah had never seen before.

The woman nudged her on the shoulder and Hannah realized with a start that she didn't know the woman's name (though the woman clearly knew hers).

"Um," Hannah paused, feeling a bit awkward, "I'm, er, sorry but I haven't actually caught you name?"

The woman blinked before giving a small smile—the first she had seen on the stern looking woman since she appeared in front of the doorstep to what seemed to Hannah like a million years ago (though what was only most likely less than fifteen minutes ago). Hannah was pleasantly surprised to see what a world of difference it made to the woman's appearance. She didn't look so scary when she was smiling.

"Minerva McGonagall."

Hannah was sure she had heard that name somewhere before, though she had no idea how; it wasn't like she knew many witches. Then, with sudden realization, she took out the letter she had stuffed in her back pocket earlier. Yes, that's where she had heard the name before.

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

That was what the letter had said.

"Deputy Headmistress?" Hannah Potter may not have had much knowledge of magical schools but she had enough of normal human schools, and she assumed they were the same enough that the word had the same meaning in both. "No offense, but do witches and wizards have a different meaning for that word?"

At her confused look, Hannah explained, "Most schools do not usually send the Deputy Headmistress for something as menial as collecting a student."

"Ah…" She looked a bit startled, as if she hadn't expected such an observation, "…You are correct, Hannah Potter." She said finally. "I see you have inherited your mother's observational skills." She smiled faintly.

"Wait… Did you know my mother?" Stupid question, she thought to herself, she did just say in front of Aunt Petunia that she knew both of them (though for some reason Aunt Petunia was shocked).

"I did," Minerva answered anyway, "She was a student at Hogwarts during my tenure."

Hannah nodded, she had guessed that. The woman—Minerva—was rather well on in the years, after all.

"She was a brilliant witch, your mother." And she gave another faint smile, though this one was slightly rueful. "So was your father, in his own way. He had a group of friends-the _Marauders, _they called themselves. Worst pranksters I've ever seen. Though the Weasley twins are giving them a run for their money." She shook her head in the way that only a teacher could, half disapproving, half amused.

Hannah found herself transfixed by Minerva McGonagall's words. This was the first time she had ever heard someone other than Aunt Petunia (who never had many nice things to say about them, anyway) mention her parents. It was nice to think that at the very least, _somebody_ had liked her parents.

"Were you close to them, Ma'am?" Hannah asked eagerly. Minerva knew her parents—she wasn't about to waste an opportunity for questions.

"As close as a strict teacher could be to a bunch of pranksters, yes." She smiled faintly again, and despite her words, Hannah guessed her parents had been some of her favorite students.

"And call me Professor McGonagall. You'll need to get used to it once you get to school anyhow." She added sternly.

"Now, I'd love to tell you more about your parents, but I think that now is not the time." She gestured to the busy crowd around them, and Hannah suddenly realized where she was. It was so easy to get distracted when everything—even the person she was travelling with—was so interesting.

"I suppose a crowded street isn't the best place for a chat, is it?" Hannah smiled a bit sheepishly and she was glad to see Professor McGonagall returned the gesture, though more muted.

"We will have time for conversation later. Now, we must buy some things for you." She said as she began to walk.

Hannah moved to follow until she suddenly realized something, "—Wait, I don't have any money with me! And Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will never give me money now!" She was beginning to panic. What was she going to do?

"Calm down, Hannah," Professor McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder, "You may not know this, but your parents had left you a very substantial inheritance."

"They did?" Hannah asked in surprise. She didn't know that, and she doubted the Dursleys did either. Because if they did, she had no doubt they would take all the money-_freakish_ or not-money was money, after all.

"At least in the Wizarding world, so certain Muggles wouldn't be able to get it." Hannah felt her face flush a bit when Professor McGonagall answered her unasked question, but did not feel guilty. Her worries regarding the Dursleys were probably not unfounded. She wondered how Professor McGonagall was able to guess what she was thinking, though, and figured it was probably magic.

"They have a trust fund set to you, in my knowledge. The rest of the money, you won't be able to access until you turn of age. Which by Wizarding standards is the day you turn seventeen."

Hannah nodded. She'd never had any money in her life before so any money, even a little, was bound to be a lot to her.

"We need to go to Gringott's—that's the the Wizarding Bank—to access it. The key to your vault is with me, but I'll give it to you when the day is over." Professor McGonagall explained and Hannah nodded again.

"I should warn you though," Professor McGonagall looked like she was struggling to find the words, "The bank isn't run by humans—neither Muggles nor Wizards, though there are some wizards that work there. …It's run by goblins." She finished a bit lamely and Hannah wondered if this was her first time explaining these things to someone who was completely new to the Wizarding world.

"_Goblins_?"

"Yes, they are small beings who, while do not have wands, can do magic as well. They are clever beings and I warn you to never cross one as you will most likely be the one to lose in such an exchange. Because they run Gringott's—the only Wizard bank in Britain-they are an integral part of the Wizarding World. Yet they are often looked down upon by wizards and thus have a rather antagonistic relationship with them-us. There have been many Goblin rebellions over the years."

Professor McGonagall paused to look at Hannah and Hannah nodded to show she understood, though she really didn't—not fully anyway.

"Don't worry. Goblins, as well as the various other beings that inhabit the Wizarding world, are part of the school curriculum at Hogwarts."

Hannah nodded again, this time a bit more enthusiastically. She wondered exactly what other fantastical beings there were in the Wizarding world. Were fairies and unicorns, and everything else real too?

"One more thing, are you by any chance affected by motion sickness?"

"I don't think so." Hannah answered a bit uncertainly; she hadn't really traveled much in her short life, so she wasn't really sure.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, "the way to travel to the vaults is through a small cart that travels using old fashioned railroad tracks. It rather fast, so if you feel you aren't up to it, tell me now so you can just wait in the lobby while I go down by myself."

"I can handle it." Hannah said as confidently as she could. She didn't want to miss out on what promised to be an adventure just because her stomach might not be able to handle it.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall nodded, "Now, come, we really are running a bit behind with all this talk."

With that she began walking and Hannah followed, eyes taking in the sights around her.

The shops weren't the only things interesting about Diagon Alley. Even the things outside them and the people doing their shopping were interesting. She could see most of them were wearing robes of various colors, and a couple were even wearing traditional black witch hats.

Hannah was so distracted by everything around her she almost walked into the Professor when she suddenly stopped.

"Here we are," she said, "Gringott's."

Hannah saw a snowy white building that was gigantic compared to the other shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold was what Hannah guessed to be a goblin. Professor McGonagall's description was fairly accurate, she supposed. They were rather small, with very long fingers and feet. She could see in their face and eyes that they were indeed clever beings and not someone to mess with.

The goblin bowed as they were walking inside, and Hannah, unsure of whether or not to return the gesture, settled for a short bow as well-to which the goblin stared at in confusion and surprise. Hannah barely had time to wonder what she did wrong when they walked through yet another set of doors—silver this time.

They were now in a rather vast marble hall, and about a hundred goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales and other various things.

"Excuse me," Professor McGonagall said politely to a goblin with a pointed beard, "We're here to make a withdrawal from the Hannah Potter Trust Vault."

"Do you have the key, ma'am?"

"Here," Professor McGonagall held up a tiny golden key.

"Everything seems to be in order," The goblin said after he (or at least Hannah assumed it was a he) looked at it closely for a few moments. "I will have someone take you down to the vault. Griphook!"

Another goblin, Griphook, approached them. Griphook led them towards one of the doors in the hall. He held the door open for them, and Hannah gave her thanks (missing Griphook's somewhat startled look) before staring at the narrow stone passageway that stretched before them. She had expected more marble, so she was rather surprised.

As they walked, Hannah noticed Professor McGonagall was staring rather oddly at her. She was curious as to why but knew better than to ask. Instead, she simply walked silently, following Griphook. They walked for a few moments before Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. They climbed in and were off.

Professor McGonagall turned out to be right, unsurprisingly. The carts were rather fast and Hannah was thankful to find that she did not indeed have motion sickness and was perfectly fine as the cart zoomed through a maze of twisting passages. She noticed Griphook wasn't steering and that the cart was moving on its own, somehow knowing which turn to take at every fork.

Hannah's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open. She didn't want to miss a thing. Once, she saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage but was too late to get a good look at it.

"Are there any dragons in here?" Hannah asked Professor McGonagall over the roar of the cart.

"Some, as well as other creatures for security measures." Professor McGonagall answered back factually.

The cart hurtled on and they passed an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never remember," Hannah asked again, over the noise, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalactites are the ones above while stalagmites grow from the bottom."

At last, the cart stopped beside a small door in the passage wall. They both got out as Griphook unlocked the door. Green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Hannah couldn't help but gasp. Inside were mounds of gold, columns of silver and little heaps of bronze.

"And this is just your trust fund," Professor McGonagall said as she began putting coins into a bag, "The Potter Vault—which you will inherit when you turn seventeen, has even more."

Hannah rushed to help her as her mind reeled. Professor McGonagall had said her parents were rich, but the thought hadn't really set itself in Hannah's mind until she saw all the money in the vault. Her parents really had been rich! And now—_she_ was rich! For someone who had never had a single penny to her name, the thought was more than a little overwhelming.

"The gold ones are called Galleons," Professor McGonagall explained and Hannah forced herself out of her thoughts and listened, "they're the highest form of currency and one of them is worth seventeen of the silver ones; they're called Sickles. One sickle is worth twenty-nine of the bronze ones; they're called Knuts." She had shown her each of the coins as she explained.

"No paper money?"

She shook her head, "Only coins."

They finished filling up the bag and by the end, it was rather heavy. The cart ride back was perhaps a bit less exciting than the first to Hannah because she already knew what to expect, but it was still rather fun and reminded Hannah of the roller coasters she never got to ride.

When they returned to the lobby, though, they didn't immediately leave the Wizard bank.

"You could do with some new clothes." she said as she eyed Hannah. "Muggle would probably be best, but since they don't sell any here at Diagon Alley we'll have to try some Muggle shops in London. And we'll need some Muggle money for that." She explained.

Hannah felt her face flush red from shame and embarrassment. The Dursleys never wasted any money on Hannah if they could help it—and that included clothes. Hannah had been forced to wear Dudley's hand-me-downs her whole life-right down to his underwear.

It was the reason people often mistook her for a boy, and that reason was why she had taken to wearing her hair quite long, despite the Dursleys protests. It was also the reason why Hannah was rather ostracized by her peers. After all, who would want to hang out with a girl who wore old overly baggy boys' clothes?

Dudley had never missed out on a moment to insult Hannah over her lack of friends. Hannah was often quite angry when she pointed out that it was all his fault in the first place (if less directly than his parents) and often had a bad remark for him. Though she usually regretted her rash actions when the Dursleys punished her far more severely than was warranted.

The sad thing was that Dudley was actually treating her better than when they were children. Back then, he didn't mind hitting girls, and neither did the rest of his gang. As much of a feminist as she was (which wasn't really all that much), she was quite thankful for the double standard when it came to hitting girls after a certain age.

"Don't be ashamed dear," Professor McGonagall said sternly but kindly, "It's not your fault. It's the Dursleys' and don't you forget it."

Hannah could only nod.

"Now come, I'm afraid I'm not much of an expert when it comes to Muggle currency. Perhaps you could help me make the exchange?" She led them towards a counter that exchanged Wizarding currency for Muggle ones.

When they got out of the bank, Hannah had a bag full of Wizarding money and a bag full of Muggle ones.


	3. Robes, Books, Conversations and a Gift

**Hannah Potter**

**Chapter Two: Madam Malkins, Flourish and Blotts and a Gift**

* * *

"It's only nine-thirty so we have a couple of hours before lunch." She said as she glanced at her watch. "I think we should finish up our shopping at Diagon Alley before we head to the Muggle shops for clothes. Is that all right with you, Hannah?" Professor McGonagall asked kindly.

"It's alright, Professor McGonagall." Hannah said cheerfully. She wouldn't mind seeing more Wizarding shops, they certainly sounded more interesting than a muggle clothes shop (though she was excited to get some new clothes-_girl_ clothes, for once).

"Very well then," She nodded before she asked, "do you have your list?" At Hannah's confused look, she sighed and explained, "It was with the letter I gave you a while ago."

Hannah took out the letter and saw a second piece of parchment she hadn't noticed before. She smiled sheepishly as she unfolded it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black) One plain pointed hat (black) for day wearOne pair of protective glovers (dragon hide or similar)One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

By Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

By Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

By Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

By Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Since Madam Malkin's is near here, we should get your school robes first." Professor McGonagall pointed to a nearby shop that had the sign 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions'.

'Madam Malkin' turned out to be a squat, smiling witch dressed in all mauve.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall! What brings you so far away from Hogwarts?" The small witch exclaimed in surprise and Hannah got the feeling Professor McGonagall didn't go out of Hogwarts very often.

"Just helping out a new muggleborn student," She replied casually and Hannah did not miss how she pointedly failed to mention her name. She would have to ask about that later.

"Ah," Madam Malkin nodded knowingly, "I see Headmaster Dumbledore is treating his Deputy less like a second-in-command and more like a personal assistant again." She said disapprovingly.

Professor McGonagall sighed, "I told you it's not like that Silvia!"

Madam Malkin shook her head sadly before saying, "I tell you, Minerva, doing chores for him will not make him want to marry you!"

"_Silvia!_" She hissed, "I told you I _do not_ like Albus Dumbledore in _that_ matter! He is just a very good friend of mine!" Madam Malkin only shook her head again and muttered what sounded to Hannah like 'still in denial'. Hannah wondered who this 'Albus Dumbledore' person was but decided that Professor McGonagall probably wouldn't appreciate her asking.

"And anyway," Professor McGonagall continued, "I _want_ to take a more proactive role in the student's lives by helping them."

"Whatever you say, Minerva," she said placatingly, clearly not convinced, "Now, come on dear, I'll get you fitted." She said to Hannah.

The three of them went to the back of the shop where a pale boy with blonde hair was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Hannah on a stool next to the boy, slipped a long black robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

Up close, Hannah could see the boy was rather pretty, in a delicate sort of way. He had beautiful hair and for a moment Hannah was rather jealous of it, thinking annoyedly at her own messy black locks.

"Hello," the boy said to her, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes." Hannah answered, snapping out of her daze. Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah could see Professor McGonagall staring neutrally at the boy. Hannah wondered what that was all about and resolved to ask later.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy continued. Hannah noticed he had a bored, drawling voice that contrasted with his delicate features. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own."

The boy was surreptitiously glancing (unsuccessfully; as Hannah could easily see this) at Professor McGonagall and Hannah realized he was gauging her reaction, and more importantly whether or not he could say something potentially implicating in front of her. Hannah also realized the boy probably didn't know that she was not only a Professor at Hogwarts (Hannah ought to ask later what subject she taught) but also the Deputy Headmistress there.

"First years are not allowed to have their own brooms because the majority of them do not know how to fly yet, because a majority of them have only recently been introduced to the Wizarding world." Professor McGonagall spoke up imperiously.

Malfoy looked like he wanted to say something but was wisely staying silent, probably sensing she wasn't someone to cross with. Instead, he turned to face Hannah and continued in his drawling voice, "So, what House do you think you'll be in at Hogwarts?"

"Uh, I don't know." Hannah replied, really not knowing what the boy was talking about.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been, after all."

Hannah could swear she saw Professor McGonagall's narrow the tiniest fraction at the boy's words and promised to ask her about that later as well.

The boy didn't talk anymore after that, though Hannah suspected that was less because he had nothing to say and more because Professor McGonagall was listening in on their conversation.

Any further conversation was cut off as Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, dear." Hannah was not at all sad about leaving the boy and the slightly awkward silence.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the boy said as they left the shop.

The sun was shining quite brightly when they made it out the store. Professor managed to forestall any more comments from Madam Malkin by saying she was very busy (which wasn't really a lie; they were quite busy, Hannah supposed) and hurriedly pushing Hannah out of the store. Hannah was actually rather amused by the whole ordeal (discounting the odd and rather arrogant seeming boy) but was wisely not commenting about at as she sensed Professor McGonagall didn't find it quite as amusing as she did.

"'Flourish and Blotts' is right around the corner, so we should go there next. You'll be able to buy your school books there, and any other reading materials you might like. Though since there's an able-sized library at Hogwarts you probably won't need to buy anything else," was Professor McGonagall's reply when Hannah asked where they were going next.

Hannah got the impression Professor McGonagall was the kind of woman who liked reading very much (she was a _teacher_, after all), and though Hannah wasn't exactly averse to reading, she certainly had no sort of inborn passion for it. Still, she had no doubt that Wizarding books would be infinitely more interesting than Muggle ones, so she was still rather excited.

Hannah was right when she assumed Wizarding books to be more interesting than Muggle ones. There were plenty of books at 'Flourish and Blotts', and all of them were interesting. The shelves at the store were stacked to the ceiling with books of various sizes; some were as thick as several dictionaries stacked together, while others were simply book covers with nothing inside them. There were books written in French, and Spanish and Chinese and various other languages, and even ones written in nothing but odd symbols. Hannah was still browsing through the stacks of books when Professor McGonagall informed her it was time to leave.

"As much as I approve of reading, I'm afraid we simply haven't got the time today." Professor McGonagall said apologetically.

Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face, she added with a small kind smile, "I don't, however, see the problem, in bringing you back here in a few days time."

This brightened up Hannah greatly, though she did immediately ask, stammering slightly, "Are you sure that's alright? I mean, I know you're busy and all…" Hannah trailed off. "I wouldn't want to bother you." She said .

"You're not bothering me at all," the professor assured her, "it is my job, after all, to make you feel welcome at Hogwarts." She added with a small wink.

Hannah thought it looked slightly comical on the normally stern woman and managed a little giggle and smile in response. She knew that Professor McGonagall wasn't being entirely honest about her job description. However different the Magical world might be, she was pretty sure the job of a Deputy Headmistress was probably the same. And she knew that tasks like taking a student to a bookstore on what was no doubt a day off was not part of work.

Though the professor was stern and even a bit scary, she was really quite nice and even sweet.

"Perhaps you can buy a few extra books for your stay at Hogwarts. Though the Hogwarts library is quite well stocked, your own copy would be convenient, after all."

Hannah immediately broke into a grin and began to browse the stack of books with a brand new fervor.

In the end, Hannah had bought a total of seven extra books, in addition to her required school books.

They were _Hogwarts, A History_, _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century _(she did not fail to notice the odd look Professor McGonagall gave the book as she put it on the counter), _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_, _Muggles Who Notice_, _Why Transfigure?_ (It came heavily recommended by Professor McGonagall), and _Practical Applications of Magic (household spells, battle spells, and more_).

Hannah had initially wanted to buy _Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more)_ but Professor McGonagall had looked on rather disapprovingly (it didn't help that Hannah had a slightly evil look of glee on her face as she flipped through the book). When Hannah had told her that Dudley was her intended victim, Professor McGonagall replied that 'while he may be deserving of it, it is still wrong, and you shouldn't stoop to his level'. She also added that it was against the law to use magic against muggles because it apparently violated the Statute of Secrecy that stated Magic was to be kept secret from muggles. Though considering Dudley already knew of magic, it seemed like a moot point. She had told Professor McGonagall this, and the older witch replied, with a hint of disapproval and annoyance, "the people who make the law, I'm afraid, do not consider such things."

Hannah thought it was a bit stupid of them then, but did not voice such thoughts aloud. Though she was pretty sure Professor McGonagall would agree with her, considering her slightly disapproving tone.

Instead she asked, "Who makes the laws? The Wizarding Government?" She hazarded.

"Yes, you are correct," she answered with approval, "the Wizarding government of Great Britain, known as the Ministry of Magic, is the one who makes the laws. Though they all have to pass the Wizengamot, which is the Wizarding equivalent of high court and parliament. The Ministry's main purpose is to maintain the 'Statute of Secrecy', which is the international law that Magic must be kept secret from the Muggle world. Only the current Muggle President, Prime Minister, etc. is exempt form the law and is informed of Magic, and the Magical world by the current Minister for Magic, who is somewhat analogous to the President or Prime Minister. Though some nations are more lenient than others on the law, by and large, the Wizarding and Muggle worlds are largely separate."

"Why would they do that?" Hannah asked more out of curiosity than anything.

The question made the professor pause and for the first time since Hannah had met her, seemed to be at a loss for words. For a brief moment, Hannah wondered if she had said something wrong. But then, all she had asked was why. What was so bad about that? She asked herself.

The silence that followed made Hannah squirm. It felt oppressive, especially in the cramped bookstore. She wondered if she ought to say something, if only to break the silence.

But every time she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She didn't know what to say. In the end, she decided to just wait for the professor to break the silence. In any case, she seemed to be deep in thought. Breaking the silence herself would've only made it more awkward, and probably break her train of thought too.

It was a long moment before Professor McGonagall spoke again, and when she did her words seemed a bit strained.

"I had hoped you wouldn't ask me that, Hannah," she managed a small laugh, "but I suppose you're just like your mother. Always so curious, so full of questions."

Whatever Hannah had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that.

The comparison to her mother made Hannah feel a bit odd. It wasn't often that people compared her to her parents, because the only people that had really known them were the Dursleys. And the Dursleys never had anything good to say about them.

So it was a bit odd to Hannah to finally meet someone who knew her parents, who _liked _her parents-even if only at a teacher-student level. She wasn't quite sure what to feel about being compared to someone she she had never met. How was she supposed to feel?

Before the mess of conflicting emotions could get a hold of her, Hannah told herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"That wasn't exactly answering my question." She said a bit more accusingly than she intended.

"No, it wasn't," Professor McGonagall conceded with a small sigh, "I suppose I was just stalling."

"The reason magic is kept secret from the Muggles is complicated. It's not something one can explain to an eleven year old easily."

"So you'll tell me when i'm older?" Hannah joked.

"...Yes, Hannah," the professor answered back seriously. "I suppose I will have to."

"For now, I will simply tell you the reason stated by the Ministry. 'Magic is kept secret from the Muggles because if it weren't, they'd be forever wanting to use magic to solve their problems instead of trying to solve them themselves.'"

Professor McGonagall's voice seemed to be a bit sarcastic as she quoted the Ministry, and Hannah got the feeling she was very experienced with mocking them.

She thought it would probably be best if she didn't place too much trust in the Ministry and their words, because certainly, the professor didn't seem to. And while it might've been a bit preemptive of her to think this (since she hadn't actually met anyone from the Ministry yet), she felt that Professor McGonagall was probably right in doing so.

Mostly putting the matter out of her mind, she told herself she would simply ask the professor again when she older, or perhaps ask someone a bit less caring of her age. Either way, questions of 'why' fled from her head.

"Anyway, would you like to buy anymore books?" Professor McGonagall asked with a bit too much relief in her voice.

Immediately, Hannah went back to browsing the shelves.

In the end, Hannah had bought _Self-Defensive Spellwork_, filled with mostly defensive spells, in place of _Curses and Counter-Curses,_ which had been filled mostly with offensive (though mostly harmless) ones.

All of Hannah's books (schoolbooks and extra books alike) were quite thick and rather heavy as well, so Professor McGonagall cast a featherweight charm on them with her wand. Hannah had watched intrigued and amazed. It was quite one thing to hear about casting spells, and quite another to actually see a person casting spells.

Professor McGonagall explained to her the mechanics of spell casting (a sort of sneak-peek on what you'll be learning at Hogwarts). How the wave of the wand and the pronunciation of the spell all came together to achieve the goal of the spell. How the focus, the intent and the amount of magical energy a witch or wizard could affect the outcome of the spell, and much more.

"Spell casting, as well as all other forms of Magic, will take much practice before you are able to do anything." Professor McGonagall explained with a stern sort of look.

Hannah quickly realized that it would be quite a long time before she would be able to cast any spells properly.

"But do not worry. In time, you will be able to all these spells, and more." The professor added, this time more kindly. "For now, you will simply have to practice."

Their next stop was a more general shop where they bought most of the more miscellaneous things on the list of things to buy, such as the cauldron, phials, weighing scales and brass telescope. And while it was mostly filled with things like those, they did have a more interesting section filled with objects that whizzed and whirled, and certainly weren't found in any muggle shops in Britain.

Unfortunately, the professor had not allowed Hannah to buy anything else that was not on the list on the reason that it was simply not needed-she was after all, only a first year student. Hannah figured out that Professor McGonagall was not the type of person to engage in excessive extravagance (her exception was perhaps books, considering the amount she had spent at Flourish and Blotts), and was quite practical when it came to money ('just because you are rich, Hannah, does not mean you may spend money so carelessly').

The Apothecary was next, and it was certainly one of the more interesting shops. Though it smelled horrible and made Hannah's skin crawl ten different ways, all the same Hannah's curiosity was piqued the whole time. Barrels of slimy stuff were on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powder lined the walls, and bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. Hannah kept herself busy staring at everything in the store while Professor McGonagall bought the needed supplies. Unlike the shops before, Hannah was not particularly tempted to buy any of the things in the Apothecary, and was simply content to look at them.

When they left the Apothecary, Hannah found Professor McGonagall was staring at her with a curious sort of look.

"Hannah," Professor McGonagall said suddenly, "would you like a familiar? They're sort of like pets, but are more intelligent than muggle animals."

Hannah didn't really need to think about it, she replied eagerly, "Sure!"

She never really had a pet—er, familiar-for various reasons (the Dursleys certainly wouldn't buy one for her, and they wouldn't let her keep anything she found on the streets either). The spiders in her closet didn't exactly count.

Professor McGonagall nodded, she had probably expected that answer.

"You're allowed a toad, cat or owl." She continued. "Which one would you prefer?"

This time, Hannah did need to think about it.

She didn't really fancy the idea of a toad; nothing bad about them, they just weren't her type. But a cat or an owl was good. Hannah was silent for a while, contemplating which to choose.

Now, Hannah didn't really have anything against cats, but the more Hannah thought about it, the more _ordinary _they seemed-well, compared to an owl, anyway.

"Could I get an owl?" Hannah asked with a grin.

Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded, though Hannah thought she could detect the barest hint of disappointment (perhaps she had wanted her to pick a cat or toad?).

They went to 'Eeylops Owl Emporium', which was dark and full of rustling wings and flickering jewel-bright eyes. After about twenty minutes of search and consideration, Hannah chose a beautiful snowy owl as her new familiar.

When they got to the counter and Hannah moved to pay, however, Professor McGonagall stopped her. Smiling slightly, she said, "Think of this as your birthday present, Hannah."

Hannah stammered for a moment, a blush creeping onto her face, "I-It's a-alright… You don't have to-"

"Nonsense," Professor McGonagall cut her off, "It's only polite, after all." She added by way of explanation.

And with that, she placed some gold on the counter, ignoring Hannah's increasing blush.

This was the first time someone had given her a present for her birthday (the Dursleys' so called 'gifts' didn't really count) and Hannah thought it was a wonderful feeling that blossomed in her heart at the moment.

"Thank you." Hannah whispered softly but earnestly as they left the owl shop. The professor's only response was a kind smile and a slight nod.

"What are you going to call her?"

Hannah thought for a moment. "How about Hedwig?"

Professor McGonagall nodded, "A beautiful name. Though I'm curious how you know it."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly and Hannah gave a sheepish smile, "I saw it in 'A History of Magic' as I was looking through it. I thought it was really nice."

"It is," the professor agreed, "though I should add that the original owner of the name is not quite as nice. I suggest you read the book, because though it is indeed a nice name and I am not against it, it is always best to know any negative connotations that might be attached to a certain name." She added with some emphasis.

Hannah nodded earnestly. The book sounded interesting, and maybe she'd find another name there.

"Now," Professor McGonagall glanced at her watch, "Perhaps we should have a bit of lunch."

Hannah nodded, suddenly realizing how empty her stomach was. She'd only taken a bite or two of breakfast when the professor had suddenly shown up.

"After lunch, we'll go to Ollivander's for your wand." The professor explained as she walked. "Then we'll move on to muggle London and buy you some new clothes."

With a bit of hurried step, she followed Professor McGonagall. "I know a nice place not too far from here."


End file.
